Death Note Mirai Rewrite
by TheSummerWriter
Summary: They saved each other, and it changed the entire future. Warning: Full of Spoilers.
1. 0: First Meeting

_0. Prologue - First Meeting _

Raito Yagami found his life boring.

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the little special moments he receives at home when his father is actually home from work to have dinner with them. He couldn't find it in his heart to call such moments as those boring, but he is used to his father being scarce. His father is the chief of the Tokyo Police Department and he keeps the city as safe as possible.

It wasn't his obedient and sometimes nosy sister, who at times would ask him personal questions that he answered vague enough to stir her imagination. She did nothing else aside from that or occasionally peek in at inappropriate times, and if she really needs it, asks for homework help on mathematics. Raito didn't seem bothered by any of it and tended to his sister's needs patiently.

It was the repeating days that bored him.

Everyday would go on and on and on, starting and ending the same with few differences that drew out Raito's annoyance.

It would start with him walking to school, greeted by his group of "friends". It would continue on from there, attending classes that Raito sat through while listening to the teacher blabber on about something he already understood and covered way ahead of the class. Lunch would soon unfold and Raito would receive love confessions from different girls that he kindly rejected. The reason would be that he was too busy studying to have any time for a girlfriend (which of course was a white lie). They just weren't girls Raito would be interested in.

The type of girl Raito would consider dating is a girl who shared the same intellectuality. He wanted a girl that suspended him, challenged him (not in a way that would make him cringe or glare, mind games to his level), surprised him, and amazed him. He had his particulars for girls, both in appearance and personality and none of the girls at his high school qualified what he was looking for.

Now it was summertime.

He wondered if he would meet a girl like that in university. He wouldn't rely on luck or have his hopes up too high. There were other things he could at least pretend to enamor himself with and he wasn't much of a dependent person (at least, not in the beginning).

The summer was calm and the weather, unpredictable. He didn't have "friends" that tried to impress him or got too close to his disliking; they were all preoccupied with their own senior-high-school-summertime affairs. He didn't have to sit through classes listening to his instructors teach, or in Raito's case, _review _something he already knew. He didn't have anything bothering him or drawing out his annoyance and yet…

He was still bored.

There was no excitement in the air that he walked in and out of. There were no conspicuous inanimate objects lying about that could attract his rare curiosity. There were no girls that fit his likings around his neighborhood either. It would be a slow morning, afternoon, and night. Raito couldn't understand the thrill his younger sister got out of summertime other than catching up on her soap dramas.

It had to be a girl thing.

Every summer day started and ended like that until a certain Thursday. Raito had woken up from a gentle slumber and walked downstairs to serve himself a bowl of cereal, when he noticed the tiny calendar hung on the fridge by magnets was marked today for Cram School. Of course, there was nothing special about Cram School, but he just found it odd that he had forgotten.

He shrugged it off and assumed the boredom swallowed up his organizing skills.

He went back to eating his cereal, unbeknownst to the commercial playing in the living room television that Sayu lie on her stomach in front of. She was clad in her dark orange and white polka dot two-piece pajamas, as if she spent the night there. Raito had rolled his eyes before pouring himself cereal when he came down and noticed his sister's presence.

On the television was the famous model Misa Amane, radiant with her Barbie soprano of a voice and exotic appearance. Sayu had squealed to herself as she watched the model's latest commercial about perfume, but Raito, at the time, didn't care and ignored his sister's fan-girling.

When he finished his cereal, he walked back upstairs and began his steps for preparing for Cram school; make bed, set folded and ironed clothes on made bed, take a hot shower, comb hair, and dress. Raito had always been neat as much as he had been smart. At the age of two, Raito could already read an entire Atlas book.

He would call out every country or continent his mother quizzed him on. If asked, he would list cities, towns, and their landmarks. It puzzled his parents at first, but they've come to appreciate Raito's intelligence. Deep down though, Raito can tell that they wished he hadn't grown so fast.

That made Raito smile to himself as he stared at his reflection. He had just shut the shower off and stepped out to face the misted mirror from the steam, he ran his palm across where his face would be and stared at himself. He wasn't one to stare at his reflection in the morning, but… it felt different today somehow.

"I wonder…" he murmured to himself.

-0-

A girl was running away as far as possible from a knife-wielding figure. She couldn't find anyone to help her and she wasn't thinking straight. That's the only reason to justify why she ran into more alleyways, right?

"You lied to me!" the voice cried from behind her.

"I did it to protect you!" she shouted. "I did all of this to protect _us_! All I wanted was for you to love me! I wanted you to know that I'm no one to be scared of, that I'm there to protect you—" she turned around when she was cornered at a dead-end, making a mistake as the figure stabbed the knife deep into her womb.

"…" Her eyes widened in pain as she staggered back against the wall, pupils flickering in her eyes.

"No, you're a liar! A selfish liar! I regret letting myself fall in love with you!"

"…._Yuki_." she uttered brokenly, starting to shake but it wasn't from the agony of her penetrated womb. She pulled the knife out by its hilt quickly, gasping and crying out. "Yuki! Don't say that! I love you with all of my h-heart—" he retook the knife and stabbed her womb again.

"Die…" he hissed in her ear. "For what you did to my family, my friends, and to… _Akise-kun_!"

"Yuki, it hurts!" she cried.

Yuki stepped back, his face shadowed as he withdrew the knife by its hilt—too fast out of her wound that she screamed—and when he looked up, his eyes were unapologetic. "Goodbye, Yuno…"

"Please don't kill yourself, Yuki! _I LOVE YOU!_" She clutched to her bleeding womb, staggering towards him but he moved further back and shook his head.

"Not this time, you psychotic bitch!" he smashed his own diary, making her eyes widen hugely. "I won't miss you and your manipulation!"

"…." When he disintegrated to nothingness, Yuno screamed at the top of her lungs until her voice cracked and her body decided to fall back. She let herself lie there, staring at the sky with deeply traumatized eyes and quivering lips, all the while, barely suppressing the bleeding from her womb. "H-help m-me…" she whispered, even though she knew it was pointless.

-0-

Raito was walking his way to Cram School with the skies gray and ready to rain above him. His bag was hung over his jacketed shoulder and he was set to go, what with the bus fare his mother offered him shortly before he left. He didn't ask. It wasn't him to depend on people, but if offers came conveniently, then he would accept.

He only hoped it wouldn't rain or that would mean he would be drenched on the way home. Raito was almost there when he heard something. No, when he heard _her_.

"_H-help m-me_…" croaked a weak voice, like a melody going on broken record.

Curiosity and thrill getting the best of Raito, he risked skipping Cram for today to venture into the alleyways where such a voice was coming from. She repeated a few times for Raito to finally reach her. When he caught sight of her, he blinked.

A girl who was three years younger than him, lain on her back in a pool of spilling blood that came from the deep slit on her womb. She pressed her palm down on the wound in an effort to suppress anymore bleeding, but that was failing badly. She shook against the ground, from the cold and of how much blood she was losing. She had four-tails of cotton-candy colored hair; two tied tightly in the back and two loosely in the front with bright pink ribbons. She wore a school uniform of some sort, but it looked homemade to Raito's knowledge.

He's never seen a dark blue and bright pink school uniform before. She looked up at him and their eyes met. It was an infinite moment for both of them until she croaked again and outstretched a trembling hand towards him; the one that had been clutching her bleeding wound.

At the moment, Raito didn't care and he lifted her up into his arms, having wrapped her slender and shorter body in his khaki coat. Her eyelids fluttered weakly. Raito needed to find shelter for her and he needed to find it quick. He couldn't take her just anywhere.

She buried her heart-shaped face in his shoulder, clinging very slightly. Not that he minded. It didn't waver his thoughts. He couldn't remember any places he could take her as shelter where he could treat her wound and if he didn't do it fast enough, she might bleed out!

Rain poured down on them as they walked. He was about to announce his conflict when he realized something. There was that abandoned church he sometimes visits. He left a few things there, even some medical home remedies he could use to patch her up. He started running faster, taking routes that attracted less attention as he thought of the path to that abandoned church. Though, with umbrellas being held over a head and eyes to shelter from the pouring rain, they wouldn't be able to witness much.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked weakly.

"You'll see."

And she did. She hadn't expected him to take her somewhere so isolated and tarnished, but she wasn't complaining as he pushed the doors open to the vacant antechamber. He took a turn down the hallway of glass-stained windows that displayed religious art, and finally, into the praying room aligned with pews and a podium. She looked around. It was so dim in there. How did he manage?

"There," announced Raito as he sat her down on one of two first row pews. He walked around the back of the platform where the podium stood atop with two altars behind it against the wall, separated by a room that Raito disappeared in. She hesitated, staring at the knife she hid under her skirt. After he helped her, should she kill him? He could have seen too much.

"_You're a liar! A selfish liar!_ _I regret letting myself fall in love with you!"_

Her eyes watered and the hand that was reaching under her skirt to retrieve that hidden knife shook. She bit back a whimper from the pain in her chest and in her punctured womb. Why would he say something like that to her? After everything she did for him… he turned on her. Wasn't she good enough?

She was going to let her thoughts continue on when Raito returned with a medical kit. She blinked back her tears, hoping her eyes weren't as glossy as they were during her train of thoughts. He smiled at her, the kindest smile anyone has given her. Not even Yuki has dared to give her a smile as effective as that, his always wavered from fear or were proven pretend.

He started cleaning out the wound, his gaze intent on the wound he was treating. He didn't smile or laugh when Yuno cried in pain. The disinfectant he used was as sharp as alcohol but strong in its cleansing of the wound. He bandaged her enough to stop the blood from seeping through and smiled that same one that left her composure shaking.

She quickly pulled the knife out from underneath her skirt. Raito's eyes briefly reflected panic, until she gave the knife to him. She stared at him with life-draining eyes of cerise, almost like a wilting flower ready to die from being neglected. He blinked at the knife.

"Kill me." She croaked, smiling in self-loathe.

"…I can't do that." He replied as calm as he could be at that moment.

"Sure you can." She laughed bitterly.

"I can't, you deserve to—"

"Then, what for?! What do I deserve to live for?!" she asked, continuing her bitter laughter that eventually turned into crying... "I've lost everything..!"

If it was any girl at his school, he wouldn't care. He would shrug his shoulders and remind them that that was a permanent choice of theirs and he wouldn't be the one to make that decision for them. But this girl… somehow she was different. He didn't understand how or why, but she was different compared to those other girls at school.

Sure, she was younger and pink hair was considered exotic in these places but… no, it wasn't any of that. He couldn't figure something out for once and it was bothering him. He didn't like it when his pride was in question. He felt trapped, empowered.

Nonetheless, he grabbed her by her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake.

"You haven't lost anything!" he shouted involuntarily, as if he was offended by her suicidal rambles.

"What do you know!?" She shouted back. "You're just a stranger I asked to help me when he walked by at the right time! If you won't kill me, then move, I'll do it myself!"

"There's no way you honestly think I can just sit here and watch you put yourself out!?" Raito glared back.

When she reached for the knife that he left next to him, he kicked it further away. He climbed onto the pew, pinning her down and glaring. "I'm not letting you."

"Why…" tears streamed down her cheeks as she stared into his golden-brown eyes. "Why do you…" she lost her composure and started crying. It didn't matter if she showed her emotions to him. He wasn't the enemy.

"Why? That's because you called for my help and I'm going to help you." Raito upturned his lips into that kind smile again, but this time it melted her heart as she laughed in disproval at his statement.

"You're a dummy." She murmured.

"If I'm a dummy, then so are you." He grinned cheekily.

She laughed again. Blush colored her cheeks and the life reformed in her eyes as she smiled up at him.

"Thank you, for helping me."

"You aren't giving up, are you?" he asked, raising his brow.

"No," she smiled wider.

"Good." He eased himself back up, unpinning her and helping her up from the pew.

On their walkout, they both knew this would be it. It made them rethink their thoughts prior to their meeting. When they stepped out, the gray sky and pouring rain hadn't subsided.

Raito turned towards her, smiling. "This is it. Never forget what I said."

She only smiled, stood on the tip of her toes, and pressed a gentle peck to his cheek that left him taken aback for awhile. She giggled, running away somewhere he would never see her. Raito sighed, not a bored or displeased sigh—a sigh of peace as he clutched his kissed cheek in adoration.

He wouldn't forget that girl.

* * *

><p><strong>Thursday, January 28th, 2010, 15:15 PM <strong>

The skies were almost gold from the dimming sunset that sat between two shadowed hills. It made the scenery very gorgeous for all it was worth. Limping on the desolate street sidewalk and looking out-of-place in a black suit that had tatters from where he was shot multiple of times, Yagami Raito clutched to his shoulder wound that wouldn't stop bleeding out with tears in his golden-brown eyes.

How humiliating was this…

He worked so hard for many years to end up here. Betrayed and side-stepped, he's never felt so worthless in his life. He was forced to stop in his tracks when he noticed a girl in heavy cloaks, barefoot, standing in his way. Her hair was down but it billowed in the breeze like silk and it was the color of cotton-candy. Was she here to finish him off or was she an angel here to take him to nowhere? He didn't know, but his rare curiosity sparked in the saddest moment of his life.

"You told me to never give up," Her voice was so musical that he was serenaded. "You showed me kindness no one else ever has and you helped me when I needed it."

He widened his eyes in realization. He opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. Blood trickled from his mouth that he nearly choked as he stared, fascinated by her and trying to ignore the physical pain growing from his shots.

"You're in pain…" she whispered knowingly, her eyes watering as if she didn't want that.

Raito outstretched his hand towards her, limping forwards. She met him halfway, standing in front of him. She laughed, smiling weakly up at him.

"It's been years and I still can't meet your height." She said playfully.

She knew he would laugh if he wasn't in so much pain. She stood up on the tip of her toes, like she had before, but this time placed her hands on his shoulders to stare into his golden-brown eyes with her cerise ones. Their lips brushed softly and simply.

"I'll meet you again." She whispered against his lips.

He furrowed his brows together, scared and hesitant.

"Forgive me for this…" and that was the last he heard when suddenly his vision went black.


	2. 1: Rebirth

_In the spreading darkness and the depths of slumber, eyelids will flutter and flicker with an exchange of pledge for the revolution._

_ A fruit of the future told of a town that lost all reason, with the God of dreams whom smiles gracefully while judging death upon them. _

_ To overwrite that ephemeral future, the present is distorted in blackness._

(Y)_ I believed there was an endless miracle…_

(R)_ Someday, I will show you that world shining with light. _

(Those are the anime opening lyrics merged together, by the way.)

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 1 - Rebirth<em>

"Today at approximately eleven in the morning, a thirty-two year old man was found stabbed to death in his apartment in the city of Yokohoma, Kanagawa Prefecture—" He didn't listen to the rest, as resentment built inside of him. He did his best to ignore the rest of what the reporter was saying. It wasn't unusual for him to catch a snippet of the news on his walk home from school. He heard so much of these bad news that each day he would hear it, he would grow increasingly numb and resentful.

"Today in the district of Shibuya, Tokyo, a twenty-five year old woman was gagged and killed by her housemate. The suspect, thirty-five year old Tofuji Naoki is being held in custody facing murder charges."

Seventeen year old Raito Yagami stopped in his tracks, standing just far enough from downtown Tokyo where he could hear the last of the news. He shook his head, staring off into the abyss that was his mind.

_No matter what day it is, it's always the same thing but a different story… This world is rotting._

-1-

It was another day that he found himself sitting in class, staring out the window he sat next to. It was the school courtyard. Outside it was mild; not too much sun, not too much clouds. He sighed to himself, tempted to close his eyes and just escape this rotten world for awhile. Even here, he couldn't escape it. Raito saw his peers lash out at one another, and it wasn't hard to foresee the next criminals in a few years. He couldn't stand the sight of it. Sometimes, he would step up for someone and other times, he was too numb to bother. Though it felt like another boring day, Raito couldn't help noticing how different it was becoming.

It must be how he's auto-piloting. He was about to close his eyes when he caught sight of something falling from the sky. It was a black notebook. His eyes widened as he drank in the catch. That wasn't something that happened every day.

When class was dismissed, Raito made his way to the school courtyard. Part of him had a doubtful feeling that the notebook wasn't there anymore while another part of him was full of unexplainable excitement. He should be able to, but he couldn't explain it. The way his stomach fluttered when he sauntered the way of where the notebook landed was unfamiliar, and the overwhelming relief that flooded within him when he saw it there was new to him, too. He picked it up, flipping through the blank pages.

He found nothing in them, but the cover read in white, Death Note. He scoffed to himself. Why would someone title their notebook that? For what purpose either? Looking closer, he saw a few pages in black. He pulled the book open to one of them, scanning it over. He raised his eyebrows upon reading, "_The human whose name is written in this book shall die._" With that, he closed the notebook and shook his head. That was impossible, and the sound of it in itself was ridiculous. It must have been some kind of book made to scare someone.

He set the notebook back down where it was, turned away, and was making his way home from school when he stopped in his tracks. He turned back to where it lay, and he found himself walking home with it in his bag.

_I can't be serious, to take this home with me and consider trying it out…_

"Welcome home, Raito!" his mother called from the kitchen when she heard him close the front door behind him.

"Thank you," He slid his shoes off by the door. "Mom, I'll be in my room."

"Studying?" She asked.

"When don't I?" He teased, smiling small as he climbed up the stairs. He heard his mother's laughter before he slid his door closed and gave a resigned sigh, glancing at his slightly opened bag where the note was a tad exposed. He shook his head.

_To be doing something as questionable as this…_

He sat at his desk with the notebook in front of him, studying the black pages.

"_This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind as they write the name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected._"

"_If the cause of death is written in forty seconds of writing the name, it will happen as it is written._ _If the cause of death is not specified, by default, they will die of a heart attack. Should a cause of death be specified, a further six minutes and forty seconds are granted to describe all the details._"

As he read most of this, he grew more puzzled and more amused. The premise was impossible and ridiculous as he thought before, but to have such certain rules… Then again, it had to be a convincing prop to fool someone into actually using the thing. Raito smirked to himself.

"So, that means their death can be painful or quick by the writer's hands, huh? What good additions for a little prank." He chuckled, stood, and lay himself down on his bed, hands folded beneath his head as he stared at the ceiling. If it was really nothing but a prop for pranks, why did he have this uncertainty crawling in the pit of his stomach? He was reassuring himself that it was nothing… Though, he knew if it was nothing, he wouldn't be feeling this way. He sighed, closing his eyes. It was pointless to dwell on something as silly as this.

He reopened them. Then again, what had happened was strange. It wasn't the same as the previous days of the same happenings in different orders. No, whatever this was, had changed today. For some reason, he felt compelled to at least try to see if it was a prop or not. To distinguish it, and know whether to throw it out of it was nothing or… He didn't know what he would do if it worked.

Unable to fight his urges and alien sensations any longer, he reclaimed his seat on the chair and grabbed a pencil from the cup, prepared to write something or more of, _someone_ down. He pulled the pencil up to his face for a moment, having second thoughts of what he was about to do. He was hesitating, but who wouldn't be? This notebook, it could either be the real deal or it was a joke.

_If this notebook really does kill by the writing of a name and the picturing of a face… if I were to write a name down in the purpose of experimenting, wouldn't that still make me a _murderer?

While his good-will was unsure of this, his confidence shrugged it off and chuckled again, convincing himself that that chance alone was too impossible to present itself. Relieved, he turned the television on and prepared himself again, listening to the broadcast. All he was doing was figuring out what this was. It couldn't be anything but a prop. He was sure of it. His doubtful thoughts were disrupted by the reporter's voice, "_…_The phantom killer, who attacked six people in the business district of Shinjuku yesterday, has now taken eight children and kindergarten teachers hostages_—"_

Raito stared at the television, the rest muted. There it was again. The numbness returning to him, crawling from his ears and descending to the rest of his unfeeling body as he sat there, registering these news of the same rotten effect of the different cause of crime or soon-to-be-crime that was unstoppable. Then, realization dawned on him. It wouldn't be unstoppable if he could help it, using this notebook. As the reporter began summarizing the killer's background with a picture displayed to boot, Raito decided he would use this man to find out once and for all what this notebook really was.

Facing away from the television to the notebook down in front of him, and turning himself on auto-pilot to fight off what hesitance remained, Raito wrote down the killer's aforementioned name with that picture in his mind. When completed, he glanced up at his clock, setting the own timer in his head.

_If the note is true, he should die of a heart attack in forty seconds._

Raito watched the television, waiting for the moment to come. The reporter went on, but hearing nothing of Raito's interest, it was once again muted in his waiting. Even the exchanged sympathies and worries for the children's and teacher's families went unheard, Raito dully noting that he had heard these before again and again. He silently glanced back at the clock, seeing that five seconds passed, he smiled a small knowing smile.

_It was impossible after all._

He stood from his chair, turning his desk lamp off and leaned to do the same with the television when he heard one of the reporters cry in shock. He froze, curiosity getting the best of him.

"The hostages are leaving the building, unharmed! The police are rushing in now. Has the phantom killer been apprehended?! Yes?" The reporter gasped, eyes widening as he announced, "We've just heard that he has died of a heart attack!"

Raito's eyes widened, as he realized that he had…

"Dead?" He uttered the word as if it were something he hadn't heard of before. _A heart attack… _He shook his head, his undeterred confidence and pride reassuring him that it was a coincidence. That he hadn't killed someone. His thoughts, that were as fleeting as the nerves coursing through his veins with the adrenaline paused at the sound of his mother calling him, something about… Ah, Cram School. He couldn't forget something as important as that on another boring day, but today was proving itself to be much different that he worried what would happen next.

After checking over his bag for everything he needed and pulling his tan uniform jacket back on, he glanced towards the notebook that could have possibly—He refused to believe that the notebook did that. It was a coincidence. Willing to prove it was nothing but a prop, he pulled the notebook into his bag and sauntered off to another night of Cram School. It was as boringly unbearable as his high school classes were, he sat there and would stare off, at least pretending he listened. When it was over, he wouldn't admit how eager he was to leave.

The chilly night air didn't bother him on his way to home. He couldn't stop himself from dwelling to his thoughts of how rotten the world had gotten when overhearing others' conversations. How they treated and ignored one another. It wasn't as bad as the criminals, but he knew that it had something to do with how they came to be. He heard the roaring of a motorcycle's engine, looking up.

He caught sight of a few motorcyclists, surrounding themselves around a lonesome woman. He pretended to walk into the store nearby, walking to the closest window where books were displayed. He picked one out, glancing down at the pages as if he were reading, but he was truly listening to the conversation outside.

"Hang out with us for awhile, baby." The leader of the gang crooned.

"Please don't trouble me…" was her soft reply.

The gang guffawed at her, making inappropriate remarks as they had her trapped in a circle. From her desperate cries and pleas for them to stop, Raito could collect that… He was almost done. Once the book was in his hands and the leader's name and face was fresh in his mind, he wrote out all the different variations of his name, waiting for the forty seconds to pass. To prove that this was a prop, and if it wasn't then, what would become of the woman struggling outside? He glanced at his watch then out the window.

Having managed to wiggle from their confines, the woman was running off to the opposite side with the leader of the gang chasing after her. One of his friends cried,

"Takuo! Watch out!"

But it was all for naught, because at that moment, a truck slammed right into him, leaving Raito wide-eyed as he stood there in shock. His confidence had nothing to say to this. This was the sure test, and the note passed.

_It… it's real._

-1-

It was heavily raining throughout his way home, but he managed. He announced his presence, glancing up to see his mother standing in front of him, smiling. She brought her hands out expectantly. He was puzzled for a moment, then it dawned on him. He reached, pulled his bag from his shoulder and down onto the floor, easily finding where he placed the national exams. He handed them over to her, smiling small.

"Here, mom."

She scanned through it, eyes as bright as her smile.

"My son is number one again!" She cheered, "You try so hard, don't you, Raito?"

"Mm, I'll be studying in my room again. Please don't interrupt." He said as he walked up the stairs with his bag.

"Of course," She agreed, "Ah, Raito! Is there anything you wanted? You can have whatever you like!"

"No thank you, mom." He closed the door, locking it. As soon as that lock was in place, his hair obscured his eyes as a smirk rose to his face. He walked over to his desk, turned the desk lamp on, set the notebook down and sat on his chair, opening the notebook to a page full of names he had written over the past five days since he first discovered its power. His smirk widened, chuckling at his horrifying accomplishments. Even the heavy thunder from outside had nothing against his rising laughter.

"I see you're having an awful lot of fun with that."

He gasped, turning to face the sight of a shinigami. The lightning that flashed on the death god that moment made him all the more unsettling, but it was from the surprise of his presence that Raito shrieked and fell from his chair.

"Why the fear? I am Ryuk, the shinigami who dropped that notebook. By your laughter, you know that that notebook is no ordinary one."

It was silent for a moment, and Ryuk thought he was talking to himself when the human stood himself up.

"A shinigami, huh?" He stared at Ryuk straightly. "I'm not afraid, Ryuk. In fact, I've been expecting you."

"Ohh?"

"You're right. I have realized that a notebook of death does exist. I know that now, from all of those names I've written."

"You surprise me. In the past, I've heard a lot of stories where humans have picked up a Death Note before, but you're the first to write this many names in only five days… Humans are too frightened to write anything more than a page or two."

"I've already prepared myself, Ryuk." He said as he sat back down, speaking in pride. "I knew full well that this was a shinigami's notebook, and now, one has come. Are you here to take my soul, as a price for using your notebook?"

"What are you going on about? Is that some common tale made up by humans?" asked Ryuk, puzzled. "I'm not going to do anything to you. Once my notebook hit the ground, it became property of the human world. What I'm saying is, the notebook is yours now."

"Mine…" Raito's eyes widened, gleaming as a sense of relief flooded over him. All the things he would do with this notebook. He hugged it to his chest. He could cleanse the world, using this as his secret weapon, and now, he may even have a god of death at his side. He started laughing again.

Watching this from a visional globe, a hooded figure stood from the throne their body had been sitting on. With much needed stretching, the figure made their way over to another room where a flip-phone was suspended in midair, waiting to be claimed. A frail hand wrapped around the phone, pulling it into a possessive embrace as unseen eyes scanned over the foretelling screen.

**/ 21:45 PM: Raito-kun went to bed now, and Ryuk is watching over him! Raito-kun needs his nine hours of rest after all! Sleep well, Raito-kun! /**

A smile twitched itself on lips that hadn't lifted in years.


	3. 2: Action

_Chapter 2 - Action_

Four days had passed since Raito picked up the Death Note, three since the Greatest Detective L started tailing him, and two since Ryuk explained the eye deal to him. He didn't take it, the shinigami recalled with a sneer. With how determined he is to protect himself and kill all the criminals in the entire world, he was sure that Raito would have taken the deal in a heartbeat. Wouldn't he want to be completely powerful, especially if he is going to face off against L?

Ryuk chuckled dryly as he flew into a throne room of purple.

"That was reckless of you, asking him to split his lifespan in exchange for eyes." said the voice of the hooded figure sitting on the throne. "I can make your afterlife a living hell if you harm Raito-kun."

"..." Ryuk snickered. "Empty threats again? You can't overuse them, I might consider you unthreatening."

There was a light, airy fit of giggling.

"Oh, will you? You'll regret that, Ryuk."

The hooded figure walked down purple halls, barefoot tapping against the floor soundlessly. Ryuk trailed, curious and bored. He left Raito to his own devices, something about him needing to take care of a "Raye Penber" on his own or whatever. It was hard having to find entertainment elsewhere, but this was his second option for now.

The figure walked up a suspended flight of spiraling stairs. He followed, his steps heavier than his predecessor's. The walk was heavy with silence, save for the singing of stars that twinkled in the vast blackness of undying space and time. This change of scenery was feasted greedily by Ryuk; he had never seen stars so vividly or the blackness of space and time from the "human realm", and the "shinigami realm" was like a desert. Everything there was skeletal, barren wasteland of a boring ever-existence he sighed throughout.

"Where we going?" he asked finally.

"You're quite the curious one, aren't you?" another laugh; darker, full of warning.

They stopped at the top step, and their surroundings whirled to white, rearranging the purple and black into nothing but iceberg blue and realization dawned on Ryuk, along with amusement. Facing their entrance was a large wall and iron plates that restricted the chains no further than half the space of this room. Center of the room was a heavy pond of crimson over the blue floor.

"Good morning, Akise-kun."

-2-

There wasn't a single person that could hear her heavy panting; as the streets were cleared of anyone or anything in the darkness of midnight. Her feet pounded the pavement hard in her running, chest burning in exhaustion and sweat rolling down her tanned face. Behind her, a fair distance away, she could hear the painful screeching of tires reversing, trying to gain better advantage in catching up to her.

A sharp-toothed smirk crossed her face. Even with a car, bastards couldn't catch up to her stride. She picked up the pace, knowing better than to abandon all effort in escaping. However, what she wasn't expecting was for another limousine to be blocking her path. She gritted her teeth against each other, swearing into the downpour of midnight angrily.

"What the fuck do you want?" she snapped.

A man in a tux stepped out of the backseat of the limo, smiling slyly.

"Minene Uryu,"

She fumbled for her orange flip phone, glancing the screen and then her surroundings. She could try leaping herself up onto the rooftop of that shop there and work to leap higher, make her way back into the clearings and go to her homely cabin… Her thoughts were derailed at the sudden click of handcuffs against her wrists, and vigorously, she struggled against their grip.

"What the fuck?!"

"You're going to be taken under custody."

Just what did that mean? Taken under custody? Were these guys working with the chef, or what? Filled with annoyance and vehemence, Minene struggled and struggled, even as they pulled her into the backseat of the limousine.

-2-

Raito lain on his futon that night, staring up at his ceiling blanky through the drumming of a thunderous downpour outside. It was as if the skies were mourning the passing of Penber, and all of those unlucky agents. Raito smirked, satisfied and pleased with himself. Their deaths wouldn't be vain; he would make sure that he would beat L, and he was only three steps higher on the ladder of defeating the Greatest Detective. Never would he have believed the enigma he once so devotedly admired would one day become his respected enemy, and just that was enough to make Raito squirm with excitement.

"How did it go, Raito?" asked Ryuk, appearing in the shadowed corner of Raito's bedroom.

"Good enough," he sat up. "Where were you all day?"

He reached under his bed, dragging out a plastic brown bag of red apples. He waywardly glanced at Ryuk, and then re-folded his arms underneath his head as he inclined to his lying position, relaxing. Ryuk crunched his apples contentedly, delaying his response to suck out all of the natural juice in the apples. Those slurps weren't sounding any better.

"Finding entertainment."

"What kind?"

Ryuk's eyes shone mischievously with his blue smirk, and Raito knew he wouldn't bring out anymore from the shinigami. Resigning, he sighed and closed his eyes, letting himself fall into a dreamful sleep of the perfect world he would create.


	4. 3: Trap

_Chapter 3 - Trap_

**11:50 AM**

Minene wriggled in the wooden chair she was tied to, blindfolded. She wriggled and wriggled, and she was wriggling so much, the chair almost tipped over more than once, but to her suspicions, someone else was in the room to keep the chair steady. She didn't like this one bit, and it was reminding her a damn lot of someone else. At the thought of a familiar justice-fanatic, her blood boiled and her teeth gritted hard against each other.

"What scary noises you're making, Uryu. I'm a little frightened now." The synthesized voice came from an intercom within the room she was in. Her anger replaced with sudden fear, she realized, that she was possibly in the hands of… "Judging by your sudden unresponsiveness, you've realized where you are. You're a quick-learner, I can like you."

L.

"So what? Are you going to hand me over for an execution? Is that it?" she asked quietly. "Get it over with, will you? I don't have all goddamned day or night, whatever the fuck the time is."

Synthesized laughter that grated her ears.

"Oh no, I'm not going to execute you, Uryu. I would like to propose a deal."

"I don't like deals." She deadpanned.

"Is that so? Shouldn't you have a listen before you decide?"

"Whatever, I'm listening."

"There's another terrorist, Uryu, more dangerous and lethal. If I told you that they could kill from a far distance unseen, would you be surprised?"

"You're talking about that Kira guy, right? What do I have to do with him? You think I have information?"

"No, I would like you to help me capture him, and for as long as you do, your identity and your whereabouts will be protected, under the condition that you participate and remain under my supervision."

"So, I'm _your_ prisoner."

"Essentially."

"Fuck you."

"Is that a no?"

In the blackness of the blindfold, a little girl in a yellow dress flickered into sight. She stared at Minene with her doe, amethyst eyes pleadingly. She turned from staring at Minene to glancing at where the intercom was. Gritting her teeth and swallowing down her loathing, she nodded.

"I'll help."

-3-

"What's the matter, Raito?" asked Ryuk playfully.

They were in Raito's room, but throughout the week, Raito had been restless. He paced in his room, golden-brown eyes narrowed to slits and arms folded over his chest. He'd discarded Raye Penber and his fiancée as an obstacle, yet he was perturbed. He was perturbed that out of all the criminals he executed, he couldn't get to Minene Uryu. He knew her name, yet he hadn't seen her face. It was making him restless, impatient.

"Damn it…" he hissed.

Lately, he hadn't heard news broadcasting anymore church bombings or bombings of any kind, either. It was almost as if she _disappeared_, but that didn't make any sense to him. He palmed his face.

"It's only a matter of time. How long will this last, Ryuk?"

"Eh?"

"Before L's next move…"

-3-

"She escaped again, chief."

Kurusu glanced at the sky. The Sakurami Police were investigating the outskirts of the city, leased buildings with high rooftops and the narrowed alleyways between them, but no progress was made. For Kurusu, this was nothing new. It was only a painful, endless loop and another gray hair on his head.

"You're a broken record to me. I think she was taken."

"Uryu Minene?" Nishijima shook his head, smiling weakly. "I don't think she would be the type to be taken."

"Look at these tire marks, Nishijima." Kurusu walked to the street side, his eyes going from the marks on the tar to the pavement and into the wide alleyway where other tire marks surfaced. "There were at least two cars tailing her."

"…" Nishijima's heart clenched, worry threatening to show but he shook it off. To be thinking sympathetically of a terrorist who killed millions in bombings; to be worrying of someone derived of humanity to do such acts; to be _in love_ with his opposite, Nishijima knew he was in the wrong, and Chief Kurusu was more than willing to prove it to him. He couldn't ignore his heartache and the desire to protect the terrorist as much as he wanted to. The two knew this.

"Nishijima," Kurusu side-glanced him. "I think _you_ need a break."

"I'm fine, chief."

"I'm not so sure about that one."

"Really, it's nothing."

Kurusu left it at that. The other investigators summarized their findings of "nothing", and then, everyone was dismissed. The late-shifters would cruise for anymore signs of where she could have gone, and everyone else would rest. Nishijima walked into his apartment, feeling heavy and ambivalent.

_Having feelings for that woman that killed Natsuko? Are you in over your head or just hopelessly desperate?_

Nishijima snapped the cork off of a bottle of liquor and swigged from it. His conflicting thoughts were rendered to nothing but white noise as he slumped down on the sofa and switched the television on to some bland channel. When the white noise picked up to something more, his swigs were more vigorous and daring, until half of the bottle was empty.

"_You realized what happened, don't you, Nishijima?" asked Kurusu darkly._

_He stood at Nishijima's bedside in the white hospital room. Nishijima was being treated for his gunshot wound, and it was the eve of his discharge. Nishijima lowered his gaze to his own lap, the white sheets covering him. But even in his covering, he felt naked, he felt scrutinized in the chief's angry eyes._

"_You let her escape _and _shoot you." Nishijima winced, screwing his eyes shut and just trying to drown it out between thoughts of _I know, chief, I know_. "How many times, Nishijima? How many _fucking_ times are you letting her escape and run you over? Has Natsuko's death blinded you _that_ much?"_

"_Chief, please—"_

"_Please what? Please let you off easy, because _you hurt_?" Kurusu leaned in closer, hissing against his ear. "My son is fucking dying, Nishijima. Do you see me contradicting where I stand to stop that? I love him so much, and I can't even stop…" he trailed off, stepping and turning away. "She's a terrorist, Nishijima. How can you love someone that wouldn't think to ever love you back?"_

"…" _Nishijima's heart split to four halves, and it was the most agonizing thing the chief had ever said to him. He didn't care if he was belittled and he didn't care if he was beaten to his core, but to be reminded of that one possibility that… His brown eyes stung with tears and he turned his own way. "Sorry, chief."_

_Kurusu sarcastically laughed._

"_As if an apology will take any of this back, people are dead and dying right now, Nishijima."_

_He walked out, and Nishijima cried, because whenever he's alone, the pain of his thoughts and feelings just dominate the silence whole. _

Nishijima liked to shove his ache in an empty bottle of alcohol. He fell asleep on the sofa, hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle swinging off of the sofa. The television was still on into the early morning, playing old and new commercials of Misa Amane's products, like the new perfume or cosmetic kit. Akise walked into the apartment, and catching the stench of Nishijima's liquor, he wrinkled his nose and routinely walked to all of the windows, pulling the blinds open and filling the dead space with _light_.

"Shit, Nishijima." Akise swore as he readjusted the unconscious, drunken man on the sofa. "I don't visit you for one night, and this happens…"

"…" Nishijima groaned, stirring and squinting at the streaming, early sunlight. "…Ehhm?" He bolted upright, and a horrible, panging headache struck him. "_Fuck_!" Groaning, he turned, panic-stricken to the albino next to him. "Ah... Akise-kun, what are you…"

"As I thought." sighed Akise. "Nishijima, how many times?"

Suddenly, tears were stinging Nishijima's eyes again. Akise's gentle, soothing voice; _Nishijima, how many times will I catch you from a fall and clean up all of your messes? _Kurusu's hard, disdainful tone;_ How many fucking times are you letting her escape and run you over? Has Natsuko's death blinded you _that_ much? _You're a grown man, Nishijima, and a prepubescent boy barely going into high school has to take care of you, so you can get by. What the fuck is your problem?

"That doesn't matter." Akise spoke again, smiling small as he snatched the empty bottle and proceeded to clean up Nishijima's trashy, dusty apartment. "Did you hear L is taking the Kira Case?"

"Yeah…" Nishijima stared at the brown carpeting, letting Akise do the talking to fill in the ominous, guilt-and-hate-hungry silence.

"Won't that be exciting?" asked Akise softly, lightly, and Nishijima can imagine the dreamy glow in those red eyes. "L coming to Japan…"

"You think you'll meet him?"

"Oh no," he laughed airily despite the situation. "L running into a little kid like me? I'm just some boy playing dress up in his eyes. It would be miraculous to earn his respect and meet him all in one day… If only, hmm?"

"You aren't a little kid to me." murmured Nishijima; _but maybe that's because _you _take care of _me.

Akise only smiled his smallest smile at the other.

-3-

She stared at the visional globe. It was only a matter of time before she acted. She smirked underneath the shadow of her hood. This time, they would win, and it didn't matter how many obstacles were in their way. As long as he had her by his side, the two of them were invincible.

"Are you sure about this, kami-sama?" a voice that had been so worried, so gentle back then only asked in such a way, that it lost its touch and became an automated question.

"I'm more than sure about it." She giggled.

But her worn and tired servant was hopelessly skeptical to what lay ahead for her master.


	5. 4: Second Meeting

_Chapter 4 - Second Meeting_

Their greatest surprise when they walked into that hotel room was seeing… _double_. They stood there, mouths agape and eyes widened at the sight. L stood, slightly hunched and hands pocketed in his jeans, eyes baggy and mouth curled. Next to him stood Minene Uryu, wearing a floral dress and a fake-friendly smile. Deep down inside, her blood was boiling to black and she was silently imagining different ways of L dying.

"_My apologies, but this is all I could provide you with." said L._

_The two of them stood in the sitting room of the hotel suite. He was going through boxes and boxes of women's clothes for her to wear, as he had said that the attire she wore now was too suspicious and… unprofessional for a detective. She wasn't stupid. She dressed up as a detective before. Amethyst eyes narrowed, lips downturned, and handcuffed arms crossed over her chest, she watched as he pulled out nothing but collared Alice-esque dresses from the boxes. _

"_What the fuck? I am _not_ wearing any of that." She ground out through clenching teeth. Distantly, she was reminded of that time with Nishijima in that old building. Her heart and insides fluttered, blush rising to her cheeks suddenly, but she tried shaking it off._

"_Is something the matter, Uryu?"_

"_Don't look, you idiot." She turned away, arms crossed. "I'm _not _wearing _that_!"_

"_Don't be so selective," he chuckled. "it would only be for _a little awhile_."_

"_How long is a little awhile?"_

"_You'll see."_

_So much for a little fucking while._ She thought angrily, arms crossed. She wasn't handcuffed anymore, but she was injected with a tracker inside the nape of her neck. If she tried to make a run for it, L would effortlessly find her. As she had feared, once she agreed to his terms, it was like signing a contract in her own blood.

"I am L." he said stoically into the stunned silence. His depthless, obsidian eyes fixated intensely on the group of police-detectives. He was silently judging them.

The group of police-detectives grunted their confusion, then, their curious eyes fell upon Minene. The curiosity mixed with intrigue, and suddenly, suddenly, Minene felt very uncomfortable. She felt very uncomfortable and displayed, and she didn't like it one bit. Her cheeks were beginning to heat up, when…

"That is Maki." said L.

"I can speak for myself." She hissed at him.

"I wanted to save you the trouble." A ghost of a smile raised his gray lips.

One of them cleared his throat and pulled out his ID.

"Excuse me, I am Yagami Soichiro of the NPA."

They both turned back to them, apologizing and listening to everyone introduce themselves; Minene doing so, quite begrudgingly, and L, silently judging once more.

"Now, I would like to apologize for our tardiness—"

"You would be dead if I were Kira." L cut across tersely. "All it takes is a name and a face."

They grunted their confusion again, but Aizawa was more outraged.

"What the hell are you getting at?!"

"I'm warning you to be careful with your identities." said L coolly. "We all may be risking our lives partaking this investigation, but working with me, you will find that I have ways of simmering that risk."

Minene rolled her eyes.

"Now, putting all of that aside, may we proceed?"

"Of course."

"I request all electronics silenced and/or turned off right away," L turned away, walking into the sitting area before turning back and pointing to the checkered table at the entrance hall of the suite. "Leave them there on that table when you're all set."

Minene followed him, sitting down in one of the chairs.

"I know he's cautious and all, but like this, it's hard to tell if he trusts us or not." whispered Matsuda, but it wasn't really a whisper, even Minene heard him from where she sat down and her eyes narrowed; _is he _that_ stupid?_

L nonchalantly sat down on the chair neighboring Minene, pulling his knees to his chest and hugging them.

"No, it's my pet-peeve that cell phones ring when I would have to talk or be in the middle of a monologue." He replied icily.

Wordlessly, they all filed into the sitting area and took seats on the couch.

"Also, let me add that—"

"No one takes notes during the meetings!" shouted Minene, glaring at them all. "So you damn better remember what the hell he says, or _else_."

Everyone fell silent, but ever so careless…

"Or else what?" asked Matsuda tentatively.

"Or else too bad, so sad." deadpanned Minene, squinting her eyes at him and leaning in. "I don't know you that well, but I already know you're going to forget _something_."

They started chuckling.

"…Guys! That's _not_ funny!" said Matsuda exasperatedly.

"It seems you've made them comfortable enough, Maki-san."

"And I do a damn better job at it than you do."

"Now, that's enough horsing around." L shook his head. "We're here to discuss Kira."

Silence… Eventually, the uncomfortable silence reached a point that L called Watari over for tea and sugar cubes. After introducing himself, Watari served everyone a cup of tea and left the creamers and sweeteners at the center of the coffee table. L helped himself to the empty cup of sugar cubes Watari left behind for him, the others watching in silent disgust, Minene especially. She'd been imprisoned in this suite with this guy for awhile, and she still can't shake off how uncomfortable his mannerisms make her. He's _odd_.

"Erm, L—"

"Please call me Ryuzaki from now on, as a safety precaution."

"Okay, Ryuzaki." Matsuda nodded_. _Minene glanced over; _leave it to that guy to start everything._ "If we know that he needs a name and a face to kill, couldn't we cut down on the number of kills by keeping names of the criminals from the news?"

He actually said something smart! Minene grinned, folding her hand to a fist and leaning her cheek against it. She was attentive and interested in how this would play out now. And apparently, so were the others.

"If we did that, we would be putting the general public at risk." replied L, mixing the copious sugar cube saturated tea as quietly as he could.

"The general public?" asked Ukita confusedly.

"Why?" Aizawa raised his eyebrow.

Minene also raised her eyebrow, as if mocking him; _don't you mean __"_how"? Then, she glanced over at L, interested in what he would say next.

"Kira is childish and he hates losing."

"How do you…" Matsuda trailed off.

"What do you mean?" Yagami raised his brow this time.

"Well, because I'm also childish and I hate losing." Silence. "That's how I know."

Minene palmed her face. Where and what the hell did that come from? She doesn't even associate that closely with investigating and the like, but she knows that that is _not_ right to do in a case. The others seemed to share her annoyance.

"Ryuzaki, can you be a little more specific?" asked Yagami.

"Do you remember that broadcast with the convict?" asked L. "Lind L. Tailor?"

There were hums of agreement.

"With that broadcast, my objective was to provoke Kira, and it worked out. However, we all assumed he was in this to kill _only_ criminals, but… he didn't hesitate, at all, to kill the imposter. He won't just kill criminals, he'll kill anyone jeopardizing his ideals. Then, there was also when I figured out his stance in the Kanto Region, he started emphasizing a lot of his killings _in _Japan, as if to mock me in retaliation, and—

Minene raised her brow; _is that so_?

"—he's dived into my challenges head-first, and often reciprocates. Now, think about it for yourselves. What do you think would happen if we used media-restrictions on criminal exposure?"

"Well, I guess—" began Matsuda in a stammer.

"I'll kill the petty criminals or all the innocents," murmured L distantly. "Or I'll hold the whole world hostage. Who's it going to be? Withholding information that serves my means? _You _are the truly evil one." He shook his head. "Instead, let's think of another way of using the media to draw him out."

"But how?" asked Aizawa.

"Deaths of FBI agents infuriates the U.S," began L. "Latest international killings anger the police communities, nations agree to send fifteen hundred investigators to Japan. For Kira, that will be more than he faced with the FBI. He'll see everyone as a potential threat… Psychologically, he'll start to feel cornered and that will cause him to take some kind of drastic action."

"That's sure interesting." Ukita grinned to himself.

"So, he'll think there are really fifteen hundred, when there are only seven of us?" asked Aizawa excitedly, "And since none of them do exist, he won't be able to kill them…"

"It just might work!" agreed Ukita.

Minene raised her brow. She turned to L. He sat there broodingly with his knees to his chest. He glanced at her, and then at the hopeful faces of the others.

"Before we celebrate, I have other thoughts on Kira to share." announced L. "He works alone, and he had access to all of our classified information." L pressed his thumb to his lip as he spoke, mouthing against the pad of skin. "We know he needs a name and a face to kill, and to some extent, he can manipulate the time of death and the actions prior to the death. We already know that much. Now, proceeding… On December fourteenth, twelve FBI investigators entered Japan. On December nineteenth, using prison inmates Kira conducted experiments manipulating both time and actions prior to the death. Kira became aware of the FBI agents' presence and felt threatened, because he didn't know anything about them, he needed to know how much control he would have over his victims before using it on the twelve agents. And as we all know on December twenty-seventh—"

"Wait a _damn _minute!"

Everyone turned questioningly to Minene.

"What has you thinking Kira will fall for that bullshit then?" asked Minene, eyebrow raised. "You're saying that Kira is childish and hates losing, but he's getting inside information, right? No matter how I look at it, the fifteen-something investigators threat is a false-scare that wouldn't do much setting this guy off. Think about it. He's killed these FBI agents, _possibly, _from using inside information and if he has the advantage to peek into it, then he damn well knows that fifteen-something investigators aren't in Japan! Then, there's him experimenting on those prison inmates. That was a bad move on his part, because if he can control their times of death and their actions prior to their death, what can stop him from giving victims _another _death besides a heart attack?"

The police-detectives were baffled, but L's lips curled to a ghost of an appreciative smile; _I did the right thing pulling you in. _Minene sighed angrily, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What do you suggest we do, Maki-san?" asked L.

"Just who were those twelve investigators checking up on? One of the suspects were it, and did something about it." Minene readjusted the riding dress in annoyance, staring back at L.

"I suppose surveillance is an option." mused L. "I'll discuss surveillance as soon as I finish up individual interviews with each of you."

"You still don't trust us?" asked Aizawa, face falling.

"It's not that." Soichiro stared over. "He can't be faulted for this, either. Kira has access to inside information that only _we _should know. It would be right for him to take extreme caution."

"…Yeah, you're right." Aizawa sighed, and then blinked. "What was that about surveillance?"

-4-

"Where we going?" asked Ryuk, trailing Raito. Raito walked the pavement, hands in his pockets and eyes narrowed. He stared ahead thoughtfully. "Raito, don't ignore me when I'm talking to you, or I'll get mad." Raito glanced and felt through his own clothing suspiciously. "Helloooo?"

_It doesn't look like the clothes have been bugged, I think we're safe._

"Listen to me," said Raito firmly. "There's a strong possibility that there are wire-taps and surveillance cameras hidden throughout the house."

"Really?" asked Ryuk, "But that piece of paper was still in your door, wasn't it?"

"That _is _true, but..." Raito didn't slow or stop his walking, eyes narrowing more. "I did leave the paper in a way that it would be obvious to anyone entering the room. Anyway, the real test is the handle."

"Eh?"

"When that door's closed, the door handle automatically returns to a horizontal position and it won't go any higher than that, but whenever I close the door, I adjust it slightly. Instead of letting it sit horizontally, I lower it about five millimeters. When I get home and try to open the door, if the handle is all the way up in its horizontal place, I can be sure someone was in my room. That method alone doesn't tell me if my door was actually opened, there's also the lead."

"What do you do with the lead?"

"The lead goes on the hinge. After I close the door, I take the lead and rest it on the hinge in such a way that it will break if the door happens to be open by anyone. Normally, I'd take it out myself when I get back home, but it was broken."

"Oh yeah, I saw that."

"First, the door handle. Then, the lead, I just know someone was in there today."

"Maybe it was your mother?"

"No, she wouldn't have noticed the piece of paper. What's more suspicious is that they bothered to put it back. They didn't want things to obviously be amiss."

Raito walked into a bookstore. The bookstore was scarce of any customers, but Raito wouldn't take any chances, to Ryuk's chagrin. He sifted through the display shelves, eyes narrowed; _I'll need a book about… _ His thoughts were interrupted by the miniscule noises of a girl struggling to reach for a book on a high shelf. She jumped up and down, pouting at her lack of success. He didn't know why, but the sight of her cotton-candy hair concealed in four twin tails and her tanned skin struck a part of him. He sighed to himself, shaking it off; _No, it's just a girl that can't get a book._

Ryuk was chuckling more than the usual. His chuckling and Raito's suddenly, inexplicably provoked emotions were vividly reminding him of that time with Naomi Misora. He shook his head, walking over.

"Hey, do you need help?"

She turned to him and she blushed brightly.

"Um, I j-just w-want t-that…" She pointed.

It was some cook book by Misa Amane. Even with a little sister, Raito didn't get the hype. Nonplussed, Raito shrugged and effortlessly reached his hand out for the book. He pulled it off of its display shelf and held it out to her. She blushed deeper, her cerise eyes staring intently into his golden-browns. He felt uncomfortable, he felt scrutinized. It didn't help when she smiled and mouthed; _shinigami_. Raito's mouth fell open and he paled. She giggled, turning away and walking to the cashier counter.

…_She can see Ryuk_?

Gritting his teeth, Raito thought his situation through. His house was being surveyed by the Task Force that much was proven from his door being meddled with. He was fresh off of Misora's confrontation that nearly cost him his life and secrecy. Now, he had to worry about some prepubescent girl that can see his shinigami? Wait… did that make her a death note owner? It's not like asking Ryuk anything would get him anywhere, either. As she was walking away from the store, Raito cursed and put the book he'd been planning to buy back, and chased after her.

"Wait!"

She stopped in her tracks, glancing at him.

"What is it, Raito-kun?"

"…" Raito stared at her. "How do you—"

"Your sister's so adorable!" She clapped her hands together, eyes and smile wild. "I was worried that she was going to be a problem, Raito-kun, but I'm so glad she's not! We'll be together soon!"

"Wh-what? What are you talking about?" he blinked.

"This isn't the place to talk about it." She giggled. "Until next time, Raito-kun!"

"Hey, wait!"

She raced off, but Raito wasn't letting her leave easily. He chased after her; _This looks so wrong. Anyone can get the wrong idea, and I'll be screwed, but I can't let her off! Dammnit! It's one obstacle, and then the next! _Ryuk flew behind him, cackling wildly. She stopped at a distinctively familiar church. From Uryu's bombings, the church went from dilapidated to complete roofless ruins. The art stained glasses were now colorful forgotten shards on the ground, and it was overshadowed by tall, looming forest. Raito's stomach flipped, because for some reason, the familiarity of all of that was clenching down on him. She turned, staring at him incomprehensibly, her hand wrapped tight around the bag for that cook book.

"Who the hell are you?" asked Raito through his panting.

"This is around the time you would write my name in the notebook and kill me, Kira-kun." She said distantly, eyes faraway and depthless in the way that they peered at him. Her lips were moving slow and ominously, as if there was an undertone within her words that he was missing. He couldn't wrap his head around it, and it was annoying him that an enigma like her decided to show _now_ of all days.

"...What do you—"

"Don't argue with me." She said tersely, eyes narrowing, and a girl so pink and sweet shouldn't look so sinister like she did with one flinch-worthy glare. "I can read you like a book." She smirked. "I know for sure if I give you my name, you would kill me without a second thought, because you're scared I'm an obstacle to your goals."

"…" Sweat rolled down his face, and his golden-browns widened. "How the…" Ryuk was breathless, and he was laughing so hard, he rocked in amused silence behind Raito in midair.

"Don't worry, sweetheart." Her voice softened, cheeks coloring as she smiled demurely. "I'm not here to be a threat. _I'm here to help you out_." Dropping the bag on the ground in front of her, she palmed her face, breathing softly, irregularly in uncontrollable excitement. "I'm going to make sure _we_ win."

"…" How could he trust her? This was all too unreal. One moment, Raito was at another hellish, boring day of school, reviewing things he'd already covered. The next, he discovered his door. And now, this girl came out of nowhere and into his life, knowing more things than he could dream of. It was too suspicious, it was too coincidental, and Raito's head ached in his attempts to solve the meaning behind it. She smiled a knowing smile that made Raito's blood coil and his eye twitch in his own revulsion of the idea that she knew more than he could possibly know. She was just a girl. She walked over, standing on the tip of her toes and palming his cheek.

"Ugh, stupid height difference." She whispered, caressing his hair from his face and smiling wider. "Don't worry that pretty head of yours, you can trust me with anything and everything, but I can't say the same thing about me-to-you." She giggled.

"…I don't feel good if we're not level." He argued softly; _Dammnit, but wait… for all I know, this girl could be harmless and stupid, just putting up a big show. I mean, she mentioned Sayu, right? She must go to the same school as Sayu, and she has to be fourteen. If it's not a big joke, then, I can easily play her like Misora. _"Listen, I'd feel better—"

Her heart-shaped face darkened and her cerise eyes hardened, lips curling grimly.

"You're smooth, Raito, I'll give you that, but you're not _that _smooth. You can talk any way you want with all those other _bitches_," her pupils dilated and her stare vacated. "but don't _you _fuckingdare," she hissed against his cheek, "think you can use me and dispose me the same way you do with _them_."

"…" Raito blinked, gaping, and Ryuk was in tears! Then, he scowled at her in disbelief. "Who the hell are you?" And she was changing too often for his liking. He didn't understand any of this, he didn't understand _her_. Her death stare softened into that endearingly flushed, saccharine smile, and she was hugging his arm possessively against her ample chest.

"I'm your wife, Raito-kun~."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> I didn't expect this to be the longest chapter, but woohoo! I feel a lot better now that Raito is in Yuno's palm. Let's think of this as his comeuppance for what he did to poor Misora. Nope, _never_ forgiving him for that, but I can't deny that I like all these characters. I just torture them in some way or other. No one escapes my fictional wrath. _No one_… -Winter


	6. 5: Ecstatic Differences

_Chapter 5 – Ecstatic Differences_

"…" He blinked, and then, he was glaring at her again. "That's _not _what I meant, dammnit—" He pulled away from her; _We're alone, like this I can _make her_ cooperate. _He made to backhand her across the face, but she dodged and sent him face planting towards the ground. He pulled himself up angrily to see her standing over him. Her shadow towered him, as vicious as the vacancy in her narrowed, pupil-dilating cerise eyes.

"You just won't behave." She hissed through gritting teeth; a pretty girl turned to a snarling mangy mutt bearing its rabid fangs. Ryuk stood at the sidelines, big yellow and red eyes staring at the pair in front of him in amusement; _If only I had a bucket of apples! _

"I've had _enough_." stood Raito, brushing himself off. "I don't need a stupid, little girl like _you_ to give _me_ problems—"

"…" She shrieked _loudly, _and somehow, her stance and her expression grew wilder. "I'm… _not_… a… fucking…problem! _Raito-kun!" _

He smirked sarcastically at her, turning his back on her. Ryuk whistled. She trembled from where she stood, eyes wide and wild, and mouth agape in mere horror.

"C'mon, Ryuk. Let's get out of here."

"Sure, Raito—"

Raito was taking two steps forward, and then, unceremoniously, his vision blackened.

-5-

When he came to, he was lying on his futon in his room. Blinking, he sat up and rubbed his slightly aching head. Ryuk was hovered in the corner, trembling and hugging himself with wild, disoriented eyes as he chanted "apples" under his breath. Raito bit back a pitiful smile for the unreliable shinigami. When his head was numb enough, he turned away, glancing at the double doors to his balcony. Was all of that just a crazy dream? No, if it was, why was his head searing? Did the bitch knock him out with a blunt weapon after all? He wasn't that surprised that she probably did, but he was more than a little humiliated and angry.

_As he was walking away, Ryuk floating side of him, she raced at him, swinging the hilt of a shovel hard against the back of his head. The impact sent him face down, vision blackening. She threw the shovel, she had scooped it from behind a tree. She knew she had to bring _something_ to keep her Raito-kun in line, if needed. Ryuk cackled wildly, impressed and amused. She breathed harshly from exertion of using that force on him, cerise eyes narrowed and dilated, until she calmed down enough that she changed back to that sweet façade. That saccharine smile on her face again, she stared down at her unconscious lover._

"_That's for misbehaving, darling." She pouted, kicking him slightly on his side. "I try to help you, and you repay me by being mean!" Then, she glanced at the way ahead of her, and turned to Ryuk. "His house is tapped, right?"_

"_Raito says it is." _

"_Then, it must be. You like apples, don't you?"_

"_So?"_

"_Raito-kun sent L a message about shinigami liking apples. If there are cameras hidden in his house, you can't eat an apple without the apple looking like it's floating in midair, right? Meaning…"_

"_C'mon, there has to be _one_ blind spot?!"_

"_You can't guess until you _look_." She winked at him._

"_What are you going to do with him?"_

"_Oh, I'm not going to hurt him." She giggled, and then, her eyes dilated. "Until he gives me a reason to." She whispered it against her palm. "No, I'll give him a gift. Tell Raito-kun to check his phone when he wakes up for me?" She smiled sweetly, and for good measure, she unbuckled the pouch attached to her belt, pulling out an apple for him._

"_Aw, thanks!"_

"_Remember to find all of those cameras, Ryuk – or that'll be your last apple for awhile!"_

"…"

"Raito, check your phone."

Raito didn't raise his eyebrows, but he hesitantly grabbed his phone from the desk anyway. Once he flipped it open, there was a message from a number he didn't recognize.

**6:37 PM: Raito-kun, a gift to you from me! I hope this levels our trust. **

He scoffed, and then, he glared, feeling humiliated. To realize that what had conspired wasn't a nightmare… He gritted his teeth, checking through his phone. Some unfamiliar app pulled up onto his screen forcefully, and there were various timed entries displayed. He raised his brow, confused.

**January 3, 2006, 21:15 PM: **I'll discover a diary that tells the future from my phone.

_A future diary?_ Raito almost snickered. _As if_…

**January 3, 2006, 21:15 PM: **There's 64 surveillance cameras in total in my room.

_Sure there is. This girl… she really thinks she's smarter than me, doesn't she?_

"Hey, Raito."

Raito clamped his phone shut, setting it down on the desk and walking to his bookshelf.

"I checked…" said Ryuk through his spasms. "There's 64 cameras in this room!"

-5-

Kurusu sat in his office, raking his fingers through his dark hair turning gray. Only yesterday he was reported to of the many retreats from the Tokyo Police, all because of the Kira Case. The understaffing was a problem, and Kurusu was receiving most of those retreaters in his station. Now, he was overstaffed, and it didn't help that he had… extra help with cases. He shuddered, thinking of that certain justice-fanatic. The Kira Case was notorious, and it demanded more attention than the others, he knew, but what could he do about it? Could he change the strong-willed opinions of a thousand men treasuring their lives for their families, for their lovers, for their friends?

He had the rights to, but his own weak heart stopped him from doing so. He thought of tubes sinking into sweating, pasty flesh; he thought of breathless, bloody hacking from a blistered mouth; he thought of bloodshot brown eyes rolling back into the head, never to open and stare back at his face again, and he jumped in his chair, palming his face as the tears stung his eyes. He clamped his eyes shut, holding his head in his hands; _Oh Yoi, my poor son… what have I done to subject you to such cruel, twisted fate? My son…_

Kurusu gritted his teeth, sobs and cries threatening to escape him but he swallowed the bitterness down his aching throat. He had to be strong. He was a chief, goddammnit. He had to pretend that he was apathetic, that he was strong, and that he was fucking invincible; show the littlest of emotion, and bang, you're a dead fucking man, Kurusu. Yet, the images of his son on that white bed in that white gown, turning white, sweating white, and just… slowly drowning into all of that cleanly whiteness… Kurusu gasped soundlessly, the tears falling onto his desk, staining paperwork he neglected.

Where had the innocent days gone? It was just yesterday that his son was healthy and young, and Kurusu was pushing him on a playground swing, his mother sitting on the park bench across, smiling happily. Kurusu pushed him too hard once, and his son went flying, spraining his ankle in the fall, but in his crying, Kurusu was there to hold him and comfort him and tell him that it would all be okay, and back then, he was fucking right. His son's ankle healed, but nowadays, cases flooding the city and the sickness deteriorating his son from the inside, he couldn't be his father anymore. He couldn't comfort him. He couldn't fucking tell him it was going to be okay when it wasn't, and he knew it wasn't… His weak heart, his dying façade, and the last of that strength waning away, all his raw desperation attempting to tighten the dam of his overflowing sorrow, and no matter whose little boy it was, Kurusu couldn't stop himself from just… from just _feeling _like it was his own son.

_It was another slow day in his office, Kurusu sat there, reading through reports and glancing out his office window. A knock on his door made him straighten and turn back. He said,_

"_It's open."_

_A pale boy with short silver hair and blood red eyes burst into the room. He'd been coming and going into this station quite often, Kurusu knew. Akise Aru, he had overheard the boy cheerily introducing himself to the other detectives and policemen. He was comfortable in his own skin to a point that he may have lacked humility. May have. The boy was only twelve, and he was always walking through restricted areas, always skimming through confiscated files he snatched from others nonchalantly, and always thinking that… he _owned_ the goddammned place. What the hell was this kid's deal? Kurusu remembered asking every time he saw him, and Nishijima would hurriedly trail after Akise to prevent scenes from happening that happened anyway. _

"_Kurusu-sama!" He cried, bowing once, and then, he set all kinds of things down on the chief's desk; bagged pieces of evidence like scrap metal, loosened or dented screws, photographs of a forest site, and a tape recorder. "It's all for that Mysterious Maulings Case!" He beamed._

_Kurusu stared blankly at the boy. He didn't see an adult or a teenager. He saw a little boy. He saw a little boy with unruly silver hair in a wavy disarray; he saw a little boy playing dress up in an imitation of adult attire with that black tie around the collar of that white button up and the dress shoes to match; and he saw a little boy that had nothing better to do than try his hardest _not_ to be a little boy. This had happened for the fifth time already, and Kurusu, so stressed and so restless had little patience for trivialities. Akise's beam fell, and as if he was expecting Kurusu not to reply, he continued,_

"_My title has a nicer ring to it, don't you think, Kurusu-sama? Oh! I have a suspicion that it's _not_ an animal, but a mechanical animal controlled by someone. I was scouting the forest just last night, and I found all of these loose screws in that bag there, and then, the footprints looked too unnatural—"_

"_Akise-kun!" cried Nishijima, running in and paling immediately, with widening brown eyes. "I am _so _sorry, chief! I keep telling him not to bother you, but—"_

"_This is no place for children." said Kurusu stoically._

"…_I'm _not _a child!" Akise glared petulantly, lips twisting to a contradictory pout. "I'm an adult! I gathered all of this evidence just for your advantage, and I've done it before, I've proven myself time and time again, don't you see? I'm a detective, like _you_—"_

"_No, you _aren't_ a detective." hissed Kurusu, leaning over and towering little Akise like a monster from the opened, dark closet. "You're just a kid pretending to be a detective, a little too into playing dress-up than the normal, I'll give you that. Children like you should be playing in the park or spending time with _your_ parents. Goddammnit! I'm sure you're worrying your parents right now! Do you have any idea how—" Akise's red eyes stung with tears and he staggered back clumsily, in shock and in some kind of pain._

"_Chief, _stop_!" cried Nishijima, his own eyes stinging with tears as he ran over and pulled Akise into his arms._

"_I've told you to stop bringing him around, Nishijima. Goddammnit… you _never _listen to me…" Kurusu palmed his head, growling. "Just get the fuck out of my office."_

"…" _Nishijima turned away, walking out and holding trembling Akise in his arms tightly._

Kurusu palmed his face tightly. He shouldn't have snapped like that, but all he could see when he looked at Akise, or any other child, was his son inside of _them. _The longer he sat there in silence, loathing himself and the world around him, the more he was coming to a decision about something. He picked up his phone from the desk, dialed, and spoke with Nishijima, requesting for an impromptu meeting outside of the station, in the nearest diner. He stood, pulled his trench over his suit jacket, buttoned it up, and was off. He made the rounds around the station, locking up after everyone, as he stayed the latest than anyone else. He didn't immediately walk to the diner. Instead, he went up to the rooftop and snapped the signal on. The signal illuminated, projecting on the dark, night sky was a lone red eyeball with the number 12 on it. Waiting, Kurusu lit himself a cigarette and smoked off his stress.

"Tooooh!" Kurusu glanced up from the rooftop floor as someone in black spandex landed right in front of him. "What did you assemble us for, Kurusu-san?!"

"Listen, Twelfth," began Kurusu solemnly. "I've been thinking about this for awhile, and, I've decided that I want to be involved in the Kira Case."

"But Kurusu-san,_ your_ life! Are you sure? Not that I discourage you, Kira must be subdued, after all!"

"I know." Kurusu's valued his life from family, but then Uryu came along, and the determination to capture her became such an intense obsession, his wife and he ended up divorcing, and then, he valued his life on being a strong enough example for his son, but then, his son fell ill and Uryu _disappeared_. He had nothing. He had no one. What was there for him to live for, if everyone and everything is really nothing? "I'm leaving my position to you, Hirasaka. You'll control the station however you want, I trust you enough and I know you'll lead them by the true means of justice."

Hirasaka flexed and heartily, cried out,

"You know I will, Kurusu-san! I won't disappoint yooou!" Then, the red eyeball vigilante leaped off into the dark and silent city of Sakurami.

Kurusu sneered halfheartedly, switching the signal off and making his way. By the time he made it to the arranged meeting in the diner, the two of them were already there. He sat opposite of Akise and Nishijima. Nishijima wore his khaki suit, seasoning his late-night coffee with mild measurements of sugar and creamer, dark bags of sleeplessness and contemplation under his brown eyes. Akise, beside the brunette, stared down at his lap silently, hands folded on the table. Around Kurusu, Akise never wore his ties, button-ups, or dress shoes; he wore his blue jacket zipped up all the way, plain pants, and tennis shoes.

"What did you call us for, chief?" asked Nishijima gently, hesitantly. He smelled the smoky stench on Kurusu, and usually, he would question him, because whenever he smoked, it meant he was stressed out, but lately, Nishijima doesn't feel like he has that place to ask him anything anymore. Akise glanced at Kurusu's hands, knowing better than to look him in the eyes; _Why did you tell Nishijima to bring me? You never tell him to bring me…_

"Well, this is something I had been thinking about for awhile now, and I finally decided. I'm going to Tokyo. I'm joining them to solve the Kira Case," said Kurusu. "I've left my position in Twelfth's hands, and wanted to let you know before I left, is all."

Akise only listened, straight. Nishijima's eyes widened, and then, he stared at his cup of coffee. He was thinking of unruly, long and purple hair. He was thinking of aged amethyst eyes, full of visions that she shouldn't have seen so young. He was thinking of the beautiful, hourglass body of her that he shouldn't feel so lustful, that he shouldn't feel so _loving_, that his cheeks shouldn't flush and his heart shouldn't pound faster in his chest whenever he thought of any of her. He clamped his eyes shut. It would be so much easier if it was only lust. It would be so much easier if he wasn't a detective. It would be so much easier if she wasn't a terrorist, but she was gone. She was missing, and all he had to_ barely_ keep him grounded was Akise.

Akise smiled wryly at his lap. The silence was making him remember that time in the office. He was inwardly cringing from the dripping venom audible in Kurusu's harsh tone. He was aching from the inevitable of what was to happen if he did this or that. There were always consequences to something, he knew that, but what was there left? If Nishijima left him, what and who did he have? All he would have was an empty place to come home to from another day of playing friends with the one he loved. And that's all that there was to his everyday life. Without being a detective, without Nishijima, without knowing the currents of crime and case, Akise was nothing but a shell of who he used to be.

"If you don't mind me asking, Kurusu-sama," Akise began, looking up from his lap. This was presumptuous of him, he knew, but he needed to know the reason. "Why did you ask me to come here? I'm only in ninth grade, after all, and…" His lips quivered, lowering his head more to hide the hurt still inside of him. "This is confidential information for you and Nishijima, isn't it?"

"Don't be blind of yourself," said Kurusu softly. "Akise, your deductive skills are reasonable enough, perhaps Twelfth would consider you. Also, I wanted to apologize to you for what I said to you those many years ago. That was uncalled for, and I'm really sorry."

"Don't sweat it, Kurusu-sama." Akise smiled small, then glanced at Nishijima.

"…I…" Nishijima trailed off at first, and then, he narrowed his eyes, staring straightly at Kurusu. "I want to go with you, chief."

Kurusu blinked, briefly taken aback.

"Are you sure about that?"

"…I don't want to stay here, and continue on her case anymore. It's bothering me too much, chief." He stared down at his coffee. "I need a break."

"If you're going, I'm going to come with you!" cried Akise.

"No, Akise-kun." Nishijima turned to him, smiling small. "I want you to stay here with Twelfth."

"But Nishijima…" Akise's eyes were burning so much, he was sure tears were stinging his eyes. "I don't know what to do if you aren't here, and what if you don't…"

Nishijima hugged Akise tightly, smiling weakly. Akise buried his face in Nishijima's shoulder as the tears fell, and his grip tightened. Kurusu's weak heart wrenched for the two of them, and he wanted to tell Nishijima to stay with Akise, because out of his own experience, he regretted leaving his son behind to fall ill when he wasn't there to be with him. But he didn't. This was Nishijima's choice.

"Just this once, Aru…" Nishijima whispered against Akise's hair softly, and then, against his ear. "let me be the adult figure I should have been for you."

"You are an adult!" cried Akise again. "Please don't leave me here by myself, Masumi-kun! Please!"

"…I love you so much, Aru." His voice cracked, his own eyes stinging with tears, and Kurusu had to turn away to hold in his own composure. He lit another cigarette, silent. "That's why I have to let you go…"

Akise sobbed and cried, trembling, and clinging tight to his guardian. Nishijima held him and comforted him with all he knew. And Kurusu stared off into the squalid emptiness of the diner, preparing himself for Kira. Preparing himself for death.

-5-

"Why is he checking his phone so much?" asked Soichiro worriedly.

"It's normal for a teenage boy to be drawn to his phone." L pressed his thumb against his lip. "Who is he talking to, I wonder?"

Raito couldn't believe it. Everything his phone predicted so far came true. He scrolled through the entries for tomorrow. And one of them that caught his attention read,

**January 4, 2006, 7:45 PM: **A fake Kira will impersonate me and broadcast a liable message.

He had to talk to that girl again, but when?

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>So, to tell text messages and entries apart from here on out is to keep in mind that entries will be fully dated, but text messages will not and timelines won't have regular text beside it, as it's just informing you of the day, the month, the number, the year, etc. Just a head's up! -Winter


End file.
